Murder An Angel - Subrosa (2) - Never Bet The Devil Your Head (CD, Album) download full album zip cd mp3 vinyl flac
I implored -- he laughed. I preached- he sneered. I threatened -- he swore. I kicked him -- he called for the police. I pulled his nose -- he blew it, and offered to bet the Devil his head that I would not venture to try that experiment again. Poverty was another vice which the peculiar physical deficiency of Dammit's mother had entailed upon her son. He was detestably poor, and this was the reason, no doubt, that his expletive expressions about betting, seldom took a pecuniary turn.
I will not be bound to say that I ever heard him make use of such a figure of speech as "I'll bet you a dollar. Had any one taken him up, his head was small, and thus his loss would have been small too. But these are my own reflections and I am by no means sure that I am right in attributing them to him. At all events the phrase in question grew daily in favor, notwithstanding the gross Album) of a man betting his brains like bank-notes: -- but this was a point which my friend's perversity of disposition would not permit him to comprehend.
In the end, he abandoned all other forms of wager, and gave himself up to "I'll bet the Devil my head," with a pertinacity and exclusiveness of devotion that displeased not less than it surprised me. I am always displeased by circumstances for which I cannot account. Mysteries force a man to think, and so injure his health. The truth is, there was something in the air with which Mr.
Dammit was wont to give utterance to his offensive Murder An Angel - Subrosa (2) - Never Bet The Devil Your Head (CD -- something in his manner of enunciation -- which at first interested, and afterwards made me very uneasy -- something which, for want of a more definite term at present, I must be permitted to call queer; but which Mr. Coleridge would have called mystical, Mr. Kant pantheisticalMr. Carlyle twistical, and Mr. Emerson hyperquizzitistical. I began not to like it at all.
Dammits soul was in a perilous state. I resolved to bring all my eloquence into play to save it. I vowed to serve him as St. Patrick, in the Irish chronicle, is said to have served the toad, -- that is to say, "awaken him to a sense of his situation. Once more I betook myself to remonstrance.
Again I collected my energies for a final attempt at expostulation. When I had made an end of my lecture, Mr. Dammit indulged himself in some very equivocal behavior. For some moments he remained silent, merely Murder An Angel - Subrosa (2) - Never Bet The Devil Your Head (CD me inquisitively in the face. But presently he threw his head to one side, and elevated his eyebrows to a great extent. Then he spread out the palms of his hands and shrugged up his shoulders.
Then he winked with the right eye. Then he repeated the operation with the left. Then he shut them both up very tight. Then he opened them both so very wide that I became seriously alarmed for the consequences. Then, applying his thumb to his nose, he thought proper to make an indescribable movement with the rest of his fingers. Finally, setting his arms a-kimbo, he condescended to reply. I can call to mind only the beads of his discourse.
He would be obliged to me if I would hold my tongue. He wished none of my advice. He despised all my insinuations. He was old enough to take care of himself. Did I still think him baby Dammit? Did I mean to say any thing against his character? Did I intend to insult him? Was I a fool? Was my maternal parent aware, in a word, of my absence from the domiciliary residence?
He would put this latter question to me as to a man of veracity, Album) he would bind himself to abide by my reply. Once more he would demand explicitly if my mother knew that I was out.
My confusion, he said, betrayed me, and he would be willing to bet the Devil his head that she did not. Dammit did not pause for my rejoinder. Turning upon his heel, he left my presence with undignified precipitation. It was well for him that he did so. My feelings had been wounded. Even my anger had been aroused. For once I would have taken him up upon his insulting wager. I would have won for the Arch-Enemy Mr. Dammit's little head -- for the fact is, my mamma was very well aware of my merely temporary absence from home.
But Khoda shefa midehed -- Heaven gives relief -- as the Mussulmans say when you tread upon their toes. It was in pursuance of my duty that I had been insulted, and I bore the Murder An Angel - Subrosa (2) - Never Bet The Devil Your Head (CD like a man.
It now seemed to me, however, that I had done all that could be required of me, in the case of this miserable individual, and I resolved to trouble him no longer with my counsel, but to leave him to his conscience and himself. But although I forebore to intrude with my advice, I could not bring myself to give up his society altogether.
I even went so far as to humor some of his less reprehensible propensities; and there were times when I found myself lauding his wicked jokes, as epicures do mustard, with tears in my eyes: -- so profoundly did it grieve me to hear his evil talk. There was a bridge, and we resolved to cross it. It was roofed over, by way of protection from the weather, and the archway, having but few windows, was thus very uncomfortably dark. As we entered the passage, the contrast between the external glare and the interior gloom struck heavily upon my spirits.
Not so upon those of the unhappy Dammit, who offered to bet the Devil his head that I was hipped. He seemed to be in an unusual good humor. He was excessively lively -- so much so that I entertained I know not what of uneasy suspicion. It is not impossible that he was affected with the transcendentals. I am not well enough versed, however, in the diagnosis of this disease to speak with decision upon the point; and unhappily there were none of my friends of the "Dial" present.
I suggest the idea, nevertheless, because of a certain species of austere Merry-Andrewism which seemed to beset my poor friend, and caused him to make quite a Tom-Fool of himself. Nothing would serve him but wriggling and skipping about under and over every thing that came in his way; now shouting out, and now lisping out, all manner of odd little and big words, yet preserving the gravest face in the world all the time.
I really could not make up my mind whether to kick or to pity him. At length, having passed nearly across the bridge, we approached the termination of the footway, when our progress was impeded by a turnstile of some height. Through this I made my way quietly, pushing it around as usual. But this turn would not serve the turn of Mr. He insisted upon leaping the stile, and said he could cut a pigeon-wing over it in the air.
Now this, conscientiously speaking, I did not think he could do. The best pigeon-winger over all kinds of style was my friend Mr. Carlyle, and as I knew he could not do it, I would not believe that it could be done by Toby Dammit. I therefore told him, in so many words, that he was a braggadocio, and could not do what he said. For this I had reason to be sorry afterward; -- for he straightway offered to bet the Devil his head that he could.
I was about to reply, notwithstanding my previous resolutions, with some remonstrance against his impiety, when I heard, close at my elbow, a slight cough, which sounded very much like the ejaculation "ahem! My glance at length fell into a nook of the frame -- work of the bridge, and upon the figure of a little lame old gentleman of venerable aspect.
Nothing could be more reverend than his whole appearance; for he not only had on a full suit of black, but his shirt was perfectly clean and the collar turned very neatly down over a white cravatwhile his hair was parted in front like a girl's. His hands were clasped pensively together over his stomach, and his two eyes were carefully rolled up into the top of his head. Upon observing him more closely, I perceived that he wore a black silk apron over his small-clothes; and this was a thing which I thought very odd.
Before I had time to make any remark, however, upon so singular a circumstance, he interrupted me with a second "ahem! The fact is, remarks of this laconic nature are nearly unanswerable. I have known a Quarterly Review non-plussed by the word "Fudge! Dammit for assistance. Well, at all events I am in for it now, and may as well put a bold face upon the matter.
Here goes, then -- ahem! He left his station at the nook of the bridge, limped forward with a gracious air, took Dammit by the hand and shook it cordially, looking all the while straight up in his face with an air of the most unadulterated benignity which it is possible for the mind of man to imagine. One extreme induces another. I wonder if he has forgotten the many unanswerable questions which he propounded to me so fluently on the day when I gave him my last lecture?
At all events, he is cured of the transcendentals. The old gentleman now took him by the arm, and led him more into the shade of the bridge -- a few paces back from the turnstile. Wait here, till I take my place by the stile, so that I may see whether you go over it handsomely, and transcendentally, and don't omit any flourishes of the pigeon-wing.
A mere form, you know. I will say 'one, two, three, and away. Streams Videos All Posts. Stream or buy on:. Track Listing.
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